


A sky full of stars

by aboutmikasa (Coco_c)



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Office, F/M, Fluff, rivamika
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-28
Updated: 2020-11-28
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:14:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27752908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Coco_c/pseuds/aboutmikasa
Summary: An after-hours night with Levi and Mikasa, bad alcoholic concoctions, inside jokes, and a sky full of stars. | Office au.
Relationships: Mikasa Ackerman/Levi
Comments: 6
Kudos: 62





	A sky full of stars

They were in his office, drinking an unidentified concoction; the result of Mikasa’s findings. Moblit wouldn’t be pleased coming to his desk and finding one missing bottle, still, the possible outcome did nothing but amusing them. Two little kids would behave more seriously than the “dream team” after the devil's pee they drank. A moment of peace and calm after weeks of working after hours and spending days trying to find the right concept for the most recent Historia Reiss’s makeup campaign. A real nightmare considering the saturation of the beauty market and their own standards.

The work finished fifteen or more minutes ago. Just when they couldn’t care less and the coffee didn’t help with the tiredness, a brilliant idea came out. In the lapse of two hours, a full concept developed, the weight over their shoulders vanishing. Levi mailed the idea to Erwin, and the boss called back, pleased with the results of his “dream team”. Why do people use that expression? Too corny to fit the cold but effective duo. The man rolled his eyes because people easily excluded the rest of his team, ignoring how hard everyone worked. A morbid curiosity surrounded him and Mikasa. A fiery and smart woman, spreading the same unapproachable aura, sharing the last name and, well, looking impressive. A bastard acting as if ice ran through his veins. People love to talk, wasting time guessing if the bond between the Ackermans went deeper than appeared.

A stupid question if someone asked Levi, but the self-preservation instinct advised otherwise, so, the rumor remained with unanswered questions.

Were they just coworkers? Levi wondered the same. No, he knew the answer and it wasn’t what people assumed.

Did he tame her? As if.

A bit of alcohol, and unnecessary thoughts showed. Good thing, he distracted himself.

Her long legs resting on his couch, her shoes at her side, and her eyes following his movements. Few things in this world caught his attention with a similar impact as the quizzical brow she offered him. Having her undivided attention was a rare thing; the woman resembled a manual for multitasking. Still, he kept his doings to himself, her intrigue motivating his childish behavior.

In the beginning, she hated his guts and wanted to rip off his head. Bowel jokes and unintended respect did the trick, breaking the ice and ending her previous animadversion. For the first time in years, he tried to get on someone's good side. Hanji’s puzzled gaze mirrored his own, but he did his best and somehow it worked. The girl had talent and wooing her for work made sense, Erwin demanded his best behavior around her. A prodigy, they said. Be nice they said. But they forgot the final warning, the girl overflowed with confidence and something often mistaken by arrogance. She was cocky though, bold, insolent, and brave; very brave.

He wanted to get on Mikasa’s good side. For the sake of the job, of course.

Since his childhood, Levi scared people, but not even once her eyes waver, neither her voice shuddered around him. The girl laughed at his jokes, became his right hand, and messaged him out of regular hours—they didn’t have regular hours, to begin with. Mikasa complained about TV shows and bad advertising, sending him outrageous infomercials every day. They plotted worse ideas for useless products and had heated exchanges for the worst products ever invented. She had a soft spot for terrible infomercials; “the most egregious infomercials,'' she said, and he smiled at her use of words.

He introduced her to Mad Men and when she caught the seasons, they discussed every chapter and sent each other a million messages and emoticons and stupid gifs every forty-seven minutes chapter plus commercials. When one of them couldn’t watch an episode, the other one waited until both watched it. Levi labeled her contact on his phone as Don Draper, and she followed the lead, naming him Peggy Olson; that day, he saw her smiling, a rare occurrence. The moment he realized they were friends was when she sent him a black-and-white picture of herself, wearing a fedora, a vintage suit, and a seductive but mysterious half-smile, holding a cigarette—gentry style. Every time she called him, he smiled, admiring the picture; sadly, she didn’t call him enough. Yes, he wanted to see her face out of the office. He didn’t like it but did nothing to deny the feeling, nor he pretended it wasn’t there, neither he’d give grave consideration to Hanji’s unrequired advice.

“What are you doing?” The object of his thoughts asked, maybe because she emptied her glass, maybe because her control-freaked persona demanded to know the hell he was doing.

“Move your ass if you want to see it,” was, as usual, the simple and eloquent reply. 

“You can’t say “ass”,” she explained uplifting her eyebrow and taking his glass before he could sip it. “Don’t you remember the HR talk?”

“Hey! That’s mine,” he claimed and tried to take the glass back; Mikasa ignored him, drinking the content. After rolling his eyes—another recurrent activity around her—, the man spoke again, “What I remember is Armin, before the talk, trying to explain to the models what to do, not using the  _ forbidden _ words…”

She laughed at the memory of her precious best friend and his very polite and unproductive photo shoot.

“The condoms campaign!” Both exclaimed before a laughing outburst.

“You are evil!” Mikasa accused him with a devilish smirk.

“Says the one who called me that day to witness her friend’s struggle.” 

As she drank the last drop, she got up from the couch and walked the short distance between them. The girl pushed him with a sway of her hips, so she could share his much more small sofa. He was used to complying with her demands and, even if he pretended to disapprove, Levi did as she requested. Mikasa sat so close to him and leaned her head to watch the tablet on his hands; she smelt fantastic and he stared at her, almost smiling. Their alliance astonished him, even if they fought for work—the office trembled with their legendary disputes over tampons, usb’s, and smartwatches' campaigns. She followed his ideas, improving them; he listened to her, amazed at her cleverness. Mikasa challenged him and learned from him. The girl was like a sponge, absorbing ideas, knowledge, references, and everything she could use.

None of them were people persons and the almighty Erwin Smith learned it the day Mikasa menaced a misogynistic client with a painful death if he ever tried to touch her again. The woman didn’t need someone to save her, nonetheless, Levi joined the discussion, making his own share of sarcastic remarks and supporting her statements. He would help her dispose of the body in said case. When Erwin reminded both where they worked at, Mikasa offered to him a murderous glare and left his office with grace and elegance, and a simple “ _ whore yourself since you’re so willing, I’m not in that business. _ ” Erwin didn’t fire her; the girl won the account, an apology from Dimo Reeves, and her Don Draper nickname.

"So, what are you doing?"

“Nothing, just playing,” he replied. Levi was thinking about her and how much she distracted him, but "playing" was accurate too.

“Are you sketching? We’ve had this conversation already, sweetheart, you draw like crap,” despite the crudeness of her words, her voice had a merry tune and he liked it. She had a free-pass and could tell him whatever she wanted; however, knowing great power comes with great responsibility, Mikasa used it with caution.

“I can fire you for that, you irreverent little shit,” he smiled, locked in her gaze. Their bodies’ proximity was closer than usual. The deep grey of those eyes mesmerized him. How can anyone be so beautiful and not aware of her effect on people? On him? 

Earlier that night, they based their idea on her eyes. Well, he did; yet, he doubted she had noticed where the original idea came from. It was a real shame, no model would have eyes like hers; he’d have to take the result, lowering his expectations because the real deal wouldn’t do the campaign. A storm of stupid and pedestrian ideas, unfitted for the brand. Unstoppable women inspired Historia Reiss's palette, and they were competing for the worst idea of the night, laughing and having a great time. With her eyes in front of him, Levi admired the mysticism behind them. The indescribable color and their scintillation resembling the darkest starry night. “A sky full of stars,” was the cheesy idea, but she played along and they turned it into a remarkable, empowering, and feminine idea. An idea making justice to the source of inspiration. Some men recite poetry, some compose music, he'd create a marketing campaign inspired by her. Not that she would know. 

Levi kept his unexpected honesty to himself and played with the tablet. 

She observed him filling the canvas with black before using white. Mikasa rested her body on his for a better view, and her hair tickled him.

"White dots over black?" She wasn’t impressed, and he refrained himself from remembering her, she released her stress searching for despicable infomercials. Not that he needed to say a word, his eyes screamed his own criticism.

Levi snorted at her words. "You, artistically illiterate brat, that's the night and these aren't dots, they’re stars."

Her soft chuckle filled the office. "Oh, excuse me, Mr. van Gogh," her sassy ass used every opportunity to show up. She looked at him with a pensive expression and after a moment, she added, “Maybe fading with yellow..."

"Yellow?"

"You know, twinkle for emphasis," her fingers played with his hair and it felt as if the world stopped its rotation. The sofa didn’t have extra space, yet she didn’t need to have her arm on his shoulders, neither she had a reason for stroking his hair, nor her body should be so close that her lips were inches away from his.

"Now you're an artist?" He asked while his head moved on its own, closing the space between them. 

Her eyes allured him and Mikasa parted her lips for him; the hand caressing his hair brought him closer. She tasted like the tamarindo sauce of the Thai food they ate, bad liquor, and like spending a rainy morning in bed. As he wrapped his arms around her, she kept her fingers on his hair. 

They pulled apart but remained embraced. Levi caressed her cheek and Mikasa rested her forehead on his, her eyes still closed—his heart jumped at the sight of her smile. After a series of adorable quick pecks on his lips, Mikasa took the tablet from his hands, adding touches here and there until he claimed the gadget back.

"So... This is it," she ventured to say, suppressing her laugh.

“Is this a universe?" He questioned, copying her quizzical brow from before. “Looks like shit."

"If we squint."

"Or closing our eyes."

She punched his arm, smiling again. "That's why we're not on the artistic team."

Instead of replying, he claimed her lips back.

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for the rivamika weekend in 2018.


End file.
